Please trip them gently, they don't like to fall, Oh by jingoThere's no room for anger, we're all very small, Oh by jingoWe're painting our faces and dressing in thoughts from the skies, from paradiseBut they think that we're holding a secretive ball.Won't someone invite themThey're just taller children, that's all, after all

Man is an obstacle, sad as the clown, Oh by jingoSo hold on to nothing, and he won't let you down, Oh by jingoSome people are marching together and some on their ownQuite aloneOthers are running, the smaller ones crawlBut some sit in silence, they're just older childrenThat's all, after all

I sing with impertinence, shading impermanent chords,With my wordsI've borrowed your time and I'm sorry I calledBut the thought just occurred that we're nobody's children at all, after all

Live your rebirth and do what you will, Oh by jingoForget all I've said, please bear me no ill, Oh by jingoAfter all, after all